Again, Again
by Czar Ashurri
Summary: Loki has something to tell Thor, something that only happened once before. Mpreg drabble, Tony/Loki, slash, very slight citrus.
1. Chapter 1

**I took a break from Assassin's Creed and my oc's for a bit to write this piece of shit. Just a short little drabble for your enjoyment.**

**Warnings: Mentions of mpreg, previous mpreg, beastiality, and Loki being a whore.  
Rating: Mature  
Disclaimers: If I owned Marvel, this would have been canon.**

"This has happened before, Brother. I do not see why you are so concerned."

Voices had carried through the tower for nearly two hours. One began excitedly but grew more and more desperate as the second began more and more exasperate.

"Last time, you were a horse. There was no…unnatural…danger."

"My very nature is unnatural, Thor. You know this."

"Loki…"

"I want this."

There was a silence as Thor took in his brother's form. Loki had brightened since Odin ordered for him to serve his rehabilitation with the Midgardian Avengers. The humans had accepted Loki hesitantly into their company, but he seemed to grow on a few, Bruce Banner and Tony Stark especially.

"Who did this?" Thor finally asked gruffly, running his fingers through his blonde hair. It was already messy from continuously repeating the action through the night. Loki didn't answer, wouldn't look at him. The dark haired god of mischief only cradled his, for now, flat stomach. Thor huffed and nulled the question with another. If Loki wanted to defend his latest lover, Thor would not push the issue though he urged to Mjolnir into the mystery man's skull. "Does he know?"

"Not yet," Loki conceded. "I had wished to see your reaction before I told…" He paused as if he was to say the name but thought better of it. "…him." He ended, slightly choked.

"Will you not tell me the name, Brother?" Thor pressed, leaning forward; his wrinkled flannels, unbuttoned for comfort, opened wider to the white, ribbed tank beneath. Loki's eyes focused on the point above Thor's heart, not wanting to meet his eyes.

"I suppose you would find out eventually," he told the god of thunder. "It's…"

* * *

Lips and teeth nipped at his neck incessantly, begging for the god beneath them to moan, groan, move, anything. A tongue joined in, lapping at the newly formed bruise before the teeth replaced it again to darken it. Slender, long fingers netted into brown hair, and the mouth was pulled away.

"What's wrong?" a voice asked the god.

"Anthony, we need to talk."

There was a shift, and weight was lifted off Loki almost immediately as Tony Stark rolled to the side to look at his lover properly. They were both shirtless, the arc reactor lit the room enough that neither man had to strain to see. Cotton sheath legs were still tangled; they couldn't let each other go even for an instant.

Tony's hand came to rest on Loki's face. "What is it?" he demanded not unkindly.

Loki looked into Tony's eyes, measuring the emotion, debating one final time if he truly wanted this. "I suppose it is now just a legend here, but do you recall the tale of Sleipnir the Eight-Legged?" Tony shook his head. Unlike his father, he was not well read with Nordic mythology. Even when he began his affair with a biggest myth of all, he always allowed Loki to tell the stories of Asgard, relying on the frost giant's judgment rather than a professor's translation.

Loki Laufeyson prepared himself to speak his piece, nuzzling the still resting hand. "There was a time when I was rather proficient in shape shifting. I used to sneak to Midgard as a human woman or eavesdrop as a bird. Once I disguised myself as a mare and went to rest in my father's pasture. A stallion was there as well. He…well…He mated me, and I later gave birth." A gasp ran out from Tony.

"Gave birth? As in…"

"I was Sleipnir's mother, aye," Loki nodded. "Odin rides him now as a battle horse, but that isn't the reason for this 'story time adventure', love." With that, Tony hushed as Loki continued. "I fathered three others, possibly more. The guardian of the dead, Hel. The sea serpent, Jörmungandr. And the wolf, Fenir, he-who-will-devour-the-sun." He paused to allow the human sometime for absorption. The engineer nodded after only a few seconds.

"It appears that I have not lost the ability to bear children, though."

For once, his genius of a midgardian was lost for words. Iron Man's alter ego laid next to his former enemy, gaping as his tired, sexually frustrated mind worked away at what the god was trying to put into words.

"Me…you…we…"

Loki gently took the hand away from his face and guided it down his naked chest to his abdomen. The flesh was still taut from battle prep and exercise and acrobatics but the barest roundness was easily felt by the man who made a point to memorize the trickster's body. Tony suddenly lurched forward, hand still cradling the mostly flat abdomen, and kissed Loki full on the mouth. The loving caress grew heavier as the god of mischief rolled them to lie onto of Tony.

The air grew heavy as the raven haired man kissed his way down the Avenger's chest, licking the face of the reactor embedded in Tony's chest. As he toyed with the waistband of the human's sweats, Loki paused in his worship of the body before him.

"By the way," he said with a nip along Tony's navel—this produced a moan that made the frost giant grin—"Thor knows. He wants to speak with you in the morrow."

Tony Stark would have been remiss to say his erection did not wilt at the thought.

**Review, please. It helps the writing process.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Welcome to the second installment of this debacle of a mpreg. I suppose I should do some sort of introduction, but really, like with Man Nights for Assassin's Creed, this is just going to be a side project. I have a full time job, and I'm about to start college in a few weeks. I do want to clear somethings up before you get to the good part and forget about little ole me.**

**First, I did do the retelling of Sleipnir incorrectly. I'm sorry, kind reader. I'm usually a stickler for accuracy, but I need to adapt it for the time-being. Besides, Loki ****_is_**** a liesmith. He could have easily told it in his own words to (I don't know) ease Tony's mind? I'll get back to you on that.**

**Second, this has no set plot. I'm making it up as I go. Inspire me, please. I love feedback and playing off of my audience.**

**Third, if you have any tips or plot ideas, review or PM me. I'll give you credit if I use your suggestion in this drabble fest.**

**Fourth, here's a blanket disclaimer: I do not own this universe or these characters nor will I own them any time in the near future. This is a fanmade, slightly AU version of the Avengers set at least three years after the end of the recent movie.**

**Enjoy!**

"Do you have to leave now?" Tony whined, desperately pressing his face into the side of Loki's neck. The god of mischief leaned his head to the side to allow the man access as he ran a brush through his slowly drying hair.

"Do not complain," he commanded with a smirk. Green eyes met with brown in the still slightly fogged mirror. Both men stood naked before it, relishing in the lingering steam from their shared shower. It was simply amazing that the others had not learned of their coupling. Dr. Banner, of course, knew because of their mutual friendship and Thor as well, but the rest of the Avengers were left in the dark.

"But Brucey gets you all to himself today," Tony pouted, acting like the overgrown child he was so often accused of being, "and I have to face the god of thunder…alone."

"He is handing Mjolnir to me before I leave, and I promised him that you would refrain from wearing the suit."

Tony was not convinced. Thor was overprotective of Loki on a good day. After finding out his little liesmith was impregnated by the least liked _human_ hero, the raging, blond hammer-wielder was likely to be pissed, if not murderous. Even without his weapon, the god could easily crush a tank, much less the unarmed Iron Man.

"Can't you go with Bruce tomorrow?" Tony switched back to begging, punctuating each word with a kiss to the god's neck.

"For tomorrow I have promised to assist Bruce with some sort of exercise and meditation program. Yoga, I believe it is called." Loki pushed Tony away, erasing his pout with a tap on the human's ass and a peck on the lips, and sauntered into their shared closet. "Besides," he called out from his rack of pressed silk shirts, "the man needs a proper suit. Have you seen the rags he attempts to call clothes? Even the captain has better style than he."

Tony laughed as he watched his pregnant lover flit about the closet, dressing quickly, almost dancing his way around the crowded space—Tony supposed he should try to discourage Loki's shopping habit, but this was too cute to disallow. Once fully clothed, the dark-haired god strutted out into the bathroom to model in front of the full length mirror. Pleased with his appearance, he released the wardrobe into the care of the billionaire before prancing out of the bedroom and towards the kitchen.

* * *

Natasha prided herself in her ability to actually wake up in the mornings. Unlike Clint, who rarely crawled out from under the covers until nearly eleven o'clock, Agent Romanov was bright eyed much closer to seven-thirty. Of course the biggest obstacle for her in the morning was arriving at the kitchen before the god of mischief. The blue eyed liesmith had lived with the Avengers for nearly a year, and Natasha still did not know where he slept. However, this did not appear to be the fateful morning when she finally figured out the mystery.

Loki, clothed in black skinny jeans, a green silk button up, and suspenders, hummed as he filled a kettle at the sink. His general cheerfulness that morning showed in his socked feet as he tapped his toes to the rhythm of whatever song he was singing—it sounded somewhere between a folk and a tango, but Natasha couldn't be sure—and his small smile that seemed to brighten his pale face.

"Good morning, Agent Romanov," the god of mischief's cheery voice rang out. He didn't bother to look at her. After several months of her watching his every move, he was quite accustomed to the routine they shared.

"Good morning, Loki," the spy replied, entering the gourmet kitchen fully. "Will you be cooking for us today, or would you rather I take over?" The two had traded off preparing meals for the team, with Steve adding his own interludes occasionally.

"I'll release the meal to your care, my dear, if you will allow me to make myself some tea," Loki replied diplomatically, cutting off the water.

Natasha nodded, lifting the kettle from the god's fingers to place it on the stove. "Do you want anything in particular?" she asked kindly. She couldn't say she fully trusted the rehabilitated trickster, but she found she enjoyed his personality.

"No, tea is fine."

The spy's brow knotted for a moment; Loki never turned down an opportunity to eat her food. She tossed the thought away though as she turned back to the cabinets and began preparing breakfast in silence.

The two never said a word, even when Loki invaded the cooktop for a moment to pour the hot water into his cup. By the time Tony Stark had migrated in, the spy had produced a plate full of fresh sausages, and Loki was eyeing them with a disgusted expression.

"You okay, Laufeyson?" Tony asked, trying his best to keep up appearances as his lover turned green. Loki didn't answer, instead bolted from his spot at the bar and dashed to the closest bathroom.

"He's seems off today," the redhead noted objectively. Tony gave a nod as he followed his older lover, careful to close the door behind him to mask the retching sounds.

Loki was kneeling over the toilet, practically hugging the seat as he lost any food left from the day before. One shaky hand came to rest over his abdomen as he vomited once more. Tony held his chin-length, black hair out of his face, trying to be helpful. With a final convulsion and a cough, the god frowned at his human lover.

"I blame you for this," he said with a growl, standing up shakily. "No. Don't kiss me until I rinse my mouth." Tony leaned away from his previous advance, watching as the trickster spat the remaining bile into the sink. Fearing Loki's anger, the billionaire simply placed a hand on the elder's shoulder, pleased when the god leaned into the touch. "If the others notice my absence from breakfast, they will begin to ask questions," Loki pointed out as he straightened from his hunch.

"They will need to know anyways," Tony replied, wrapping his arms around his much taller lover's waist. "Besides they need to become used to the idea of _us_ before we drop the big bomb on them."

"I thought we weren't allowed to kill the Avengers."

"It's a human saying, love."

Loki huffed. "I'll figure something out."

* * *

Breakfast had begun and ended without much excitement, though Loki did choose to sit as far away from any cooked meats as possible. Natasha had watched him throughout in case he grew sick again. Tony, as usual, had sat beside him and held his hand while the trickster tried his best to eat some toast with Nutella.

No one commented when Loki Laufeyson happily led Bruce Banner away from the safety of the Avengers' Tower, though the god's skipping and the doctor's fell countenance sent shivers down several spines. What set Clint, Natasha, and Steve on their current objective was the look on Thor Odinson's face when he asked Tony Stark to speak with him in private. The god of thunder was clearly angered by something, and by the look on the billionaire's countenance, he either knew or had caused the trouble.

This was precisely why the trio snuck into Director Fury's office to watch the conversation on one of the many video monitor's placed in and around the tower. Clint, at first, began to comment on the obvious lack of trust the director had in them, but Natasha elbowed him in the ribs as she turned the volume up.

On the screen, both men stood silently, awkwardly, arms crossed tightly on their chests.

"I really should bury Mjolnir in your skull and leave it at that," Thor suddenly announced. The three Avengers gasped at his apparent viciousness.

"I don't expect any different," Tony replied, resigned. "Why haven't you?"

"Loki would kill me," the god told him. Silence reigned again as Thor glared at a sheepish Tony.

"I've never seen him look so guilty before," a voice murmured behind the trio gathered at the monitor.

"Come to watch the show, Pep?" Natasha grinned at the other redhead.

"Wouldn't miss it for the world."

* * *

Tony shifted under the god's gaze, uncrossing his arms to dust off nonexistent dust from his jeans. Thor continued to watch him without speaking. After several more minutes of this, the billionaire sighed heavily. "Look," he said, "I would say 'I'm sorry', but I'm not. This is a blessing, is it not?"

"My brother shan't say that in a few months' time."

"He wants this. You know he does. I want this as well. I'll help him with this."

They seemed to reach a silent agreement not to mention what "this" was. The feeling of unwanted eyes on them urged discretion.

"I do not approve of your hiding this from me. If you cross me again, midgardian, this Son of Odin will not hesitate to have your head," Thor looked away, resigning the conversation. Tony turned to walk away. "Metal Man," Thor called, still not looking at the human. "Take care of them."

"I will," Tony promised.

* * *

"How much longer until Tony calls you, crying like a little girl?" Bruce joked as yet another pair of slacks was thrust into his laden arms. "And how are you going to pay for this?" he gasped when he finally caught sight of one of the price tags that Loki was trying to make sure was hidden from the scientist's view.

"I'd give it another five minutes," Loki smiled, fingering a royal blue sports coat. "And do not fret; I begged the credit card off of Tony last night."

"Begged or bargained?" Bruce joked, relieved when the liesmith left the colorful jacket for something a bit more traditional.

"Think about whether or not you want me to answer that," the god of mischief grinned salaciously. Bruce chuckled nervously, waving the taller man away.

"Forget I asked," he said. Loki opened his mouth to say something, most likely perverse, but suddenly the god's phone rang.

"Bad Girlfriend?"

"Silence, human," the god snapped lightly. His tone turned husky as he answered the call with a "Hello, my love."

The man on the other end sighed heavily, "I'm glad to hear that you haven't made Banner angry enough to Hulk out."

"I can turn off the pranks," Loki replied, shooing the good doctor into a dressing room. He collapsed into one of the chairs conveniently placed around the stalls. "How goes it with my brother?"

"We talked. I don't know how much was resolved. The others, I think, were trying to listen in."

Loki scoffed, "I suppose we will need to tell the children the truth before the mystery implodes in their pitiful skulls." He laughed at himself for a moment, happy when Tony joined in as well.

When he sighed tiredly, Tony paused mid-laugh and worriedly asked, "Are you alright, Loki? You don't sound well."

The trickster muttered, "I'm fine" as Bruce finally stepped out of the changing stall. The god of mischief let out a low whistle. "We're definitely getting that one."

"Does the doctor look hot?"

"He looks amazing if that's what you mean."

"Let me guess: Tony asked if I was attractive?"

"I suppose I'm not accustomed to these midgardian phrases."

Bruce Banner modeled the dark grey three piece in front of the three way mirror, unsure if he liked the suit on his figure. "Are you sure this is fine?" he asked, adjusting the cuffs on the button up underneath.

"Dear doctor, I do not think it could be any more perfect for you," Loki gushed while his boyfriend chuckled over the phone. "When have I ever given you any reason not to trust me?"

"When you kidnapped S.H.E.I.D's best archer, sic'd a raging alien army on me, and tried to take over the world," Bruce countered jokingly.

"In the last eleven months then," the liesmith grinned, not offended at all. Tony whispered something lascivious over the line that turned the grin evil. "If you are done," Loki called to Bruce, "my lover needs me…now."

* * *

The billionaire groaned as he was pressed harder into the wall. The god kneeling before Tony shushed him before discarding the jeans entrapping his legs. They had minutes before they were missed though, and Loki was moving too slow. He carefully lifted Loki by the chin so that the taller was standing. They kissed heatedly, pressing against each other. With the little time they had left, they couldn't do anything too proper, just roll their hips together in rhythm, hoping that no one found them in Tony's little used—for science—corner of his worship.

Both peaked quickly, leaning into the body before them. With lazy smiles, they kissed, separating only to find their strewn clothes. Once fully dressed, Tony grazed his hand against Loki's stomach, whispering his love to the god. Uncaring if anyone saw, Loki held the human to him.

The clicking of a camera roused them, and the former villain lifted his eyes to three familiar faces, gawking at the couple.

**Review?**


	3. Chapter 3

**Quick note: If you are following this story and you recieve updates on the previous chapters later, do not be alarmed. A combination of tumblr and Hiddleston interviews caused me to mis-describe Loki's eye color (Thank you JojoRiver1215 for pointing that out to me. I'm quite embarrassed that I missed that).**

**Alright a brief trip to the past, folks.**

It had been a year exactly from Loki's attack on Earth when Thor reentered the Avenger's Tower with the god of mischief trailing behind him. At first, the entire tower had been placed on lockdown, S.H.E.I.L.D. agents practically crawled the walls; hundreds of red dots appeared on the Liesmith's extremities. The black haired god barely blinked and lifted his empty hands, the leather of his armor audibly shifting as if the suit had not been worn in quite some time.

There was no mischievous flash of the eye to suggest that this was any kind of trick. There wasn't even the slightest hint of magic, elemental or not, in the air. Mjolnir was ever present at the god of thunder's side, but the staff Loki had carried before had seemingly disappeared.

"My brother has atoned for his actions by rule of the All-Father," Thor announced proudly to the assembled group of heroes and agents. Several noticed how, not once, did the trickster's eyes leave the floor.

"That's great news, Thunderbird, but why is he here?" the ever blunt Tony Stark asked. The billionaire held no true ill will towards Loki, though he was a bit suspicious of any purpose the god could have. The other Avengers seemed to require the answer as well, eyeing the silent Silver Tongue.

"Our Father requests that Loki reenter society and battle with the help of my friends. Apparently, word of our shared triumph has reached the ears of Asgard." Thor seemed proud of their accomplishments, of Loki's progress thus far.

"How do we know he won't attack us in our sleep?" Clint asked, wishing he had thought to carry around his bow that day.

"Oh please, you insolent cur," Loki shot at him, finally looking at the group. "Do you not think I would have already attacked you if I could? My magic has been suppressed until all malicious intent has been burnt out, if it ever will."

No one seemed to want to comment on the lack of hatred in his eyes.

* * *

Three weeks passed. Three weeks in which Loki was carefully watched by Nick Fury on video monitors. Three weeks in which nearly everyone save Thor avoided him. Three weeks in which Loki grew lethargic and weary. He had finally shaken Thor off—the massive thunder god had taken to following his little brother around to keep him company—and had retreated to the underground pool Stark had built beneath the tower.

The water was warm, near the same temperature of a human's skin. Loki's skin though was much cooler because of his Frost Giant heritage. He wondered for an instant if the water around his feet would turn to ice if he revealed his Jotun form. He nearly discarded the thought, eyeing the barely concealed camera aimed at him, but why not, really? If he fell ill or somehow came in contact with the creatures, the entire organization would discover his secret.

Laufey's son started slowly, with his fingertips. The pale Asgardian skin seemed to melt away to dark blue. The transformation spread across his bare chest, his legs which were clothed in a flimsy pair of trunks, his long neck. Closing his eyes, Loki contemplated the odd sensation that the room was suddenly too warm for him.

"That is a nice trick," a voice called behind him. Bruce Banner was suddenly met with a red-eyed, horrified stare. Markings covered the blue god's face, the water frozen solid around him and continuing to spread to the rest of the pool. The doctor wondered how long it would take for the entire body of water to freeze. "I thought your magic had been suppressed."

"This isn't magic," Loki explained, blue shifting back to milk white. "It is my natural form." The now pale god lifted his feet out of the pool, watching forlornly as the ice heated too quickly, dissipating too suddenly.

Wanting to experiment, he concentrated his energy on a single finger, turning the tip blue, and touched the water's surface. He and the scientist watched as the cold spread to the entire pool, building until it was an entire body of ice. Satisfied, he removed his hand and stared at his creation.

There was shift in cloth beside him, but Loki didn't bother to look at the nuclear physicist. The two sat without speaking as the pool's heater began to melt the ice, the large block audibly cracking. After several minutes, Bruce Banner sighed, turning to the god of mischief with a pensive expression. "I'm sorry for 'smashing' you last year," he announced in a quiet voice.

"Do not apologize for that," the trickster waved at him. "It was a foolhardy venture from the start. I rather deserved the beating you laid upon me and my punishments afterwards."

"You've changed," the scientist noted.

"Hmm?"

"Before you were giving great speeches about how humanity deserved to be enslaved; now you are quiet and reserved. Even your voice sounds misused." It was an accurate statement. Many of the group had noticed how Loki's voice cracked during his halfhearted threat, and those around Thor had commented on the god's lack of verbal response.

"I suppose that is what occurs when one's mouth is literally sewn shut for a better part of a year."

Bruce didn't comment. There wasn't anything that could be said to that.

* * *

"Are you sure this isn't magic?!" Loki exclaimed, looking up from the chemistry textbook he was borrowing from Bruce. Since the day at the pool, both males had bonded quickly. Bruce Banner soon discovered that Loki had an eye for technology and science even if he didn't entirely understand how everything worked, thus the textbooks.

"Someone once said that magic is only science we don't understand yet. Or something to that effect," the physicist explained. He picked up the notebook by the black haired god's elbow, impressed by the notes and calculations the trickster had picked up on so easily. "I'm surprised this hasn't made its way to Asgard."

Loki shrugged. "I was really the only one to care about such things, and until recently, quite recently actually, I had my mind on other things."

Bruce merely nodded and sat across from him at their table. The two had commandeered one of Tony Stark's old workshops. In exchange for scientific education, Loki had promised that the physicist could experiment with his magic once it fully returned. With his focus now shifted off pride and war, Loki felt more powerful and knew that it was only a matter of days, if not hours, before he was fully restored.

They fell into a comfortable silence that both of them enjoyed. Bruce worked diligently on notes he had made on the Captain's recent blood work; Loki read and calculated the practice problems in his book. They, therefore, were both startled when Stark suddenly appeared behind Dr. Banner and shocked him with an electric prod.

"One of these days when you choose to surprise me, I'm not going to be in control," Bruce warned, as Tony plopped himself into the only remaining empty chair.

"Well since a certain god of mischief has been less than mischievous recently, I decided that someone had to keep you on your toes," the billionaire laughed. Banner gave a very Hulk-like grunt before returning to his notes. "So Lokes, what have you been up to?"

"I despise that nomenclature."

"Whatever you say, Lokes."

Maybe his magic was going to take longer to return.

* * *

He didn't know how they started, these little touches they shared. One day Tony and Loki were heatedly debating some Midgardian political ideal, the next they were quietly brushing hands as the billionaire taught the god how to use a microscope to look at single cell bacteria. Their first kiss had been an accident really. Bruce and Loki had been working on some experiment involving the trickster's duplicates—Loki's magic had returned the previous day—when Tony walked in, arms laden with plastic bags of Chinese takeout. The Iron Man was so focused on watching the Hulk taking swabs from Loki's mouth that he tripped right into a very solid trickster's arms.

Loki, who had been reaching for the food, suddenly found himself with an armful of short billionaire and lip-locked. The mirage that Banner had been working with fizzled out with the god's concentration as both men put more into the kiss than either thought they ever would. The food dropped to the floor, protected by the plastic containers it had been packed in.

"Can you at least wait until after I leave to devour each other?" the doctor asked, throwing his pen at the entwined couple. The writing utensil bounced off of Tony's head, and the genius paused in his suddenly tonguing session to briefly flip the good doctor off.

After four months of living in the Avenger's Tower, Loki had made tremendous progress in the eyes of the heroes. While he still played pranks, most of his tricks were innocent in nature; in fact most were just a tip of the hat to Loki's mischievous personality. Natasha Romanov grew accustomed to helping the god in the kitchen and vice versa. Steve Rogers could be seen sparing hand-to-hand with the Liesmith on nearly a daily basis. Clint Barton, while not as willing to trust the god as the others, didn't mind discussing the many varieties of ranged weapons with the spell castor.

And of course, Pepper Potts nearly fell in love with the trickster after their first shopping trip together when Director Fury finally allowed Loki out of the Tower for a few hours. Tony's old flame was to be married that summer to a CEO of a sister company to Stark Industries, and Loki was more than eager to help her decorate and find a dress.

The genius and the god also grew much closer in that time, going as far as to move Loki's few possessions into the billionaire's room. Bruce approved of their union and even helped them hide it. Thor had his suspicions, but Loki was still adept at keeping things from his big brother.

* * *

The first Christmas at the Avenger's Tower was subdued. Most of the heroes had gone to visit friends or family around the world. S.H.E.I.L.D. experienced a rather large lack of disasters that needed attention. Thor had disappeared to New Mexico; he had promised to visit Jane Foster. Only Loki, Bruce, and Tony remained in the Tower.

A certain god of mischief sighed uncomfortably as the machine he was laying started making harsh thumping noises.

"I know this isn't the nicest bed, but try to remain as still as possible," Bruce called to him from the computer beside Loki's prone form. "Really, Tony, where did you get an MRI machine?"

"Do you want the truth or the version I told Pepper?" the genius laughed, taking a swig from the glass in his hand.

"I would rather not know about anything you are implying," Bruce muttered, staring intently at the screen.

"There better not be anything to imply, Anthony," Loki snapped with a growl.

"Hold still, Loki."

Loki bit his tongue as Tony chuckled at Bruce's admonishment. The day was Christmas Eve and Tony had promised something special to commemorate their first Yule together, but the human had been a horrible prick all day. Loki had half a mind to storm out and find a horde of cats to adopt, on Tony's bill, and take over the tower with them. So please he was with the thought of thousands of kittens clawing the Iron Man suit, the Liesmith nearly missed Bruce's order to change forms. He did so quickly—he had so much practice with the way that Tony and Bruce had been obsessively studying him—and smiled to himself.

Even after the test was finished and the two scientists were looking over the scans, Loki didn't drop the Jotun appearance. Sitting up, he glared at Tony's backside, which was conveniently stuck in the air, and shot a harsh blast of cold air before rapidly stomping out of the room.

He was pushing the button for the top floor, where his and Tony's bedroom was, when he heard his small lover call out his name. Violently he pressed the "close door" button, not wanting to look at the man. However, Tony called out to his computer—Jarvis is such a silly name, Loki thought—and the elevator doors were mechanically, remotely opened.

"Loki," the man tackled him, and the elevator began moving rapidly. "What the hell was that?"

"Perhaps you should spend the evening with whoever gave you that machine," Loki replied vehemently Tony flinched.

"You get insulted over the tiniest things."

"Says the one who promised a special day just for the two of us. But seeing as there is another on the side, I'm not inclined to participate in any Yuletide activities and would much prefer to retire for the evening."

Tony tried to stare into Loki's eyes to pick up any deception, but the Jotun kept his red gaze on the steel wall. Loki was actually surprised he could maintain his natural form for so long, but he accounted it to his present anger. A warm hand touched his arm; he tossed it off with a sigh reserved only for the most irritating of situations.

"You'll get frostbitten," the blue god warned. Tony didn't seem to care because he touched the arm again, and when Loki sneaked a glance at the man, he was observing the cold skin with an expression that could only be described as childish curiosity. "Do I not disgust you?" Loki asked, allowing pale white to take over once again, if only to warm Tony's numb fingertips.

"Disgust implies that I do not like it. I find it interesting, aesthetic even," Tony replied clinically, but there was a gleam in his brown eyes that told Loki otherwise.

"I am a monster, Anthony."

"So am I."

"I've killed so many innocents."

"Technically I did as well." The god gave him a pressing look. "My name was on the bombs," Tony supplied. When Loki didn't say more, Tony intervened in his thoughts. "Look, Lokes." The nickname always riled the Liesmith into listening. "That was the past. My jokes are just that jokes. I haven't been with anyone else in the past four months, and I wouldn't rather be with anyone else." The billionaire's eyebrow twitched a bit as the elevator doors opened and he pulled the god into the hallway. "Now kiss me before I get sappy."

Loki smirked, leaning down until he was barely brushing Tony's lips. "What if I preferred you as sappy, pitiful human _in love?_"

Tony sealed their lips to stop the Silvertongue's speech. Unlike so many of his other affairs, Loki's passion had no heat. In fact, the breath exchanged was frigid, refreshing, winter year round. They broke apart quickly, but Tony guided them to their room with a gentle, hot hand on a pale cheek. Again they kissed; Tony relished in the utter chill when Loki ran a tongue along the human's teeth. The billionaire quickly took control of the kiss though, thrusting his own tongue into the cold cavern.

Their hands weren't idle. Clothing was gripped tightly then violently thrown off. For all their gentleness with teeth and tongue, they were brutal with their hands, gripping, clawing. The lips finally separated, from lack of air or need to do something else, neither knew. Loki viciously bit into Tony's shoulder, pushing the smaller male onto the bed. The genius landed with a pained grunt, quickly rolling over to straddle and capture his god.

Sex, it seemed, was their way of communicating. After their tumble and rough play, which oddly mirrored their fight from the elevator, Loki loosened his jaw, licking and nuzzling the bit mark. Tony pressed a kiss to the god's cheek lovingly before moving down to kiss the pale chest. Loki's fingers traced Tony's own chest, dancing across dusky nipples, scratching at the hair, resting against the vibrating metal of the arc reactor.

It was surprising how disgustingly easy it would be to destroy the man above him. Just a twist and a tug—_Yes, Anthony, like that_—and there would be no more Iron Man. The whirring of the mechanical heart would stutter to a stop or perhaps even cease altogether suddenly. The man's tan flesh would turn nearly as pale as the god's as the tiny pieces of metal ripped ever so harshly into the mortal heart. It would be bloody, violent, possibly even loud. It would be everything the god looked for in death. Yet Loki could not bring himself to do it. Why kill his last chance at happiness?

Tony's calloused, capable hands were preparing him, and the Liesmith's thoughts were silenced. He couldn't give this up even if he tried.

**I did leave a lot of unresolved plot holes (like Coulson), but I need some room to play. I promise pregnancy and angst in the next chapter.**


	4. Chapter 4

**I need an editor. Not a beta, just someone to double check my grammar. I know what I want this story to say, but this goes directly from my WordDoc to two websites without any other eyes on it. If you have a gmail and would like to correspond with me through GoogleDocs please shoot me a PM. Thank yo.**

Tony Stark was an extremely light sleeper. His subconscious distrusted his environment, expecting trouble to spring upon him and gag him, or worse. Only the feeling of a breathing body in his arms calmed his raging nerves. He woke instantly when Loki rolled away from him. The pale god was whimpering and sweating and muttering in a pained, whispered voice. Tony called his name and a few of the many nicknames that the trickster despised, but Loki didn't respond to him. A tan hand came to rest on icy flesh, carefully dragging the body back to a warm embrace.

"Come on, Lokes," the billionaire whispered. The god gasped in his sleep, back arching. Tony tried to hold him tighter, wrapping his arms around the other male until the god of mischief began to scream. It wasn't from the embrace; milky arms wrapped around a rounded abdomen as if to hold it there, keep it from moving. Tony was calling his name in earnest now, shaking him.

Loki finally awoke with tears streaming down his face and buried his head into Tony's warm chest. The arc reactor was digging into his forehead, but the god didn't seem to care. The human couldn't do anything but drag them both into a sitting position and rock them as Loki sobbed.

"Don't take them," Loki chanted into Tony's skin. "Don't take them. Please, Father, don't. I need them, Father. I don't want to leave. Let me stay with them. Don't take them…don't take them…don't take them…"

The billionaire didn't know if the god was talking to Odin or Laufey, but the sheer pain in the Silver Tongue's plea broke him. He petted the black locks, dropping a kiss on the crown of the Asgardian prince's head. Suddenly Loki's lips were on his, the god's weight pressing him back into the bed. Tony could taste the tears on his lover's lips as Loki tried to deepen the kiss. It was so forced that Tony had to pull away to look into the green eyes of his lover.

The trickster was distraught, pale cheeks flushed with anguish, eyes swollen and red. Unsure of what else to do, the genius laid soft kisses on Loki's lips, whispering words of comfort. "Jarvis, what time is it?" Tony called after Loki finally dozed off again, pressing his face into Tony's neck like a kitten.

"It is nearly five minutes past three o'clock, sir," the personality simulator replied. For once, he didn't seem to have a hold on his sarcastic wit; Tony chalked it up to the scene the AI probably just witnessed.

"Wake us only if all the team enters the kitchen before we do."

"Of course, sir."

* * *

The couple didn't even bother to shower that morning. They dressed in sweatpants and took the elevator down to the kitchen shirtless, hair still ruffled from sleep, hands clasped loosely as they tried dozing on each other's shoulder. The team ignored the blatant bite mark on Tony's arm which was obviously from the night before, but no one could tear their eyes away from Loki's drained expression and the dark circles under his eyes. Evidence of crying was clear on the god's face as he pour himself a cup of tea and left for the lounge area without a sound.

Tony watched him for a bit, grabbing two apples, and then joined his lover. The Avenger's stared at the two males as a quiet, bitter argument started when the shorter man tried to hand the trickster one of the apples. It continued for several minutes until Tony rose and walked back to the kitchen, glass apple in one hand.

He handed the remaining edible one to Bruce with a "make sure he eats" before slumping his way to his workshop. After nearly twenty minutes of coaxing, Loki finally took a single bite of the apple, glad that his back was turned so no one else could see the tears streaming down his face or his arms wrapped around a barely rounded stomach.

Natasha picked the glass apple off the counter, giving the two friends a bit of privacy. It was cold, red seeped into it like a foreign dye. The spy shifted it in her hand, and the color moved with the change, creating patterns in the clear orb. The stem was a brown stone connected to the glass in a peculiar, seamless fashion. Clint looked over her shoulder at it, not bothering to reach out and touch it, knowing that his overeager personality could easily break the beautiful device.

Steve looked to Thor to ask what could have caused this, but the Thunderer was shooting worried glances at his brother and heated glares towards the workshop.

Suddenly Loki looked around, when he didn't see Tony still in the room, stood, uncaring if the others noticed the tears in his eyes or his slowly swelling stomach, and ran towards the man. Bruce watched on with a gaping mouth. There was silence then a crash of metal on metal on glass. The rest of the team rushed to check on the two, stopping only to watch as the god collapsed in the billionaire's arms. The force of their meeting had caused several shelves to fall into each other and the glass wall of the shop.

"I'm here. I'm here. I won't leave."

* * *

Loki hated appearing weak in front of his former enemies, but he couldn't bring himself to lift his head from Tony's lap as the human talked with Thor and Bruce about the aftermath of his nightmare. The Liesmith had not spoken all morning, and he didn't feel the need to. He knew the others watched him. He could feel their eyes burning into him; into his arms that he clamped around his bare stomach; into Tony's hand that rested on his head, combing through black hair absentmindedly.

Tony repeated his plea to the doctor and the Asgardian in a hushed whisper. Both knotted their brows tightly, thinking over the words. Thor opened his mouth to speak but caught the despair in Loki's eyes.

"Brother," he began, leaning forward, but Loki didn't listen. He stood, still cradling his stomach and teleported away. Thor closed his mouth at once, staring at the spot where Loki had stood. Bruce stood to find the god while Tony stared at his hands.

"I've never seen him like this," the billionaire admitted. "I've seen him angry, annoyed, even in tears, but this…this…is…" Suddenly he shook himself, glaring heatedly at Thor. "Explain now." His tone was bitter, icy, so similar to Loki's when the brothers had spoken before his rehabilitation that the god backed away ever so slightly.

"I do not mean any harm, Son of Howard. Know this," Thor began.

* * *

Tony tried to speak to Loki over the following three days, and though the Frost Giant clung to his side, the green eyed one refused to talk. Yet when Thor entered into their presence, the God of Myschief would teleport away, leaving Tony feeling a bit colder than usual and Thor stricken. On the night of the third day, the genius had had enough.

Loki had retreated to their rooms after a run in with his adoptive brother and was preparing for a bath when his short lover stormed in. His cotton, white t-shirt (one he had stolen from Tony) had inched up, revealing the delicate, growing curve. The human's foul visage softened at it; his anger and frustration turned to sadness as he reached to cup the womb.

"I want you to stop moping," Tony demanded, staring at the proof of their creation. "I want you to explain to me why this child is under the same threat as the others." He finally lifted his gaze to Loki's, staring into glowing green eyes. "I want to hear your voice."

"Anthony…"

The noise from Loki's throat was choked, strained. The billionaire nearly had to lean in to hear him. There was a ripple in the image before him, and Tony blinked it away, thinking the lack of sleep was finally catching up to him. Both had stayed awake for three days; Loki didn't want to dream, and Tony didn't want him to suffer alone.

"I will not be commanded again," Loki warned, though his glare was only halfhearted.

So the god confessed his fears to the human.


End file.
